Horsing Around
by IDespiseTragedy
Summary: In a costume party, who'd have thought that Asahi would turn up in a horse costume, while Nishinoya dressed as the horse's rider? He anticipated the whole team to roar with laughter, but Nishinoya's mom knew best: she eternalized the moment with her camera.


Title: **Horsing Around**

Disclaimer: _Haikyuu_ is Furudate Haruichi's property

Credit: Immeasurable thanks to my beta readers, _Hearts' Abyss_ & _Within Lives Darkness_

Cultural Note:

The _Higashiosaka Hanazono Rugby Stadium_ (東大阪市花園ラグビー場 or _Kintetsu Hanazono Ragubī-jō_ ) in Higashiosaka is the oldest dedicated rugby union stadium in Japan. Opened in 1929 with the capacity of 30,000 spectators, it is the stage for the annual National High School Rugby Tournament held every year at the end of December. Hence, it has been referred to as the Holy Land of the high school rugby players. _Hanshin Koshien Stadium_ (阪神甲子園球場 or _Hanshin Kōshien Kyūjō_ ) is basically the baseball equivalent. The park is located near Kobe in Nishinomiya, Hyōgo Prefecture, Japan. Built to host the national high school baseball tournaments, and opened on August 1, 1924, the stadium was the largest stadium in Asia at the time it was completed with a capacity of 55,000.

* * *

"Costume party? Why bother?" Kageyama asked, not bothering to hide his incredulous tone. Hinata, on the other hand, was busy high-fiving Tanaka in the background while chanting "Costume party!" and "Yay!" in a singsong voice. The changeroom for Karasuno's volleyball club reeked with the stench of their sweat, but this was typical for the boys after a tiring practice.

Nishinoya replied, "Come on, it'll be fun! Besides, my birthday's gonna be in the week before the inter-high preliminary, so we should _definitely_ have fun before then, right?"

Apologetically, Asahi mumbled, "Yeah, but … I had to replace my phone recently because my old phone broke."

Nishinoya scrunched his brow for a moment, before his expression cleared and he punched Asahi lightly on the shoulder. "Aw, you can forget my present then. The costume alone will be more than enough for me."

If his heart could clench, this surely was one of those moments. No, scratch that. Asahi ordinarily hated disappoint anyone, but to disappoint Nishinoya would leave him _devastated_. Every time Asahi saw Nishinoya beaming so enthusiastically, he was immediately seized by an irresistible urge to obey whatever the younger boy desired of him.

Not missing the ardent gleam in Nishinoya's eyes and Asahi's unvoiced concern, Suga took his wallet out from his back pocket and opened it. "And if that still isn't enough, I'll cover the cost for the costume rental, Asahi."

Predictably, Asahi shifted uncomfortably when everyone turned hopeful eyes to him. Even so, their discussion was finally closed with an agreement to meet up at Nishinoya's house at noon on October 10. Asahi had eventually relented upon hearing their amended conditions—knowing that each party-goer would be allowed to wear normal clothes and get changed once they were inside, to save themselves from the embarrassment of flaunting their costumes on the streets, comforted him a great deal. The volleyball team members walked home together part of the way, and then scattered to make their own way home.

Once he was finally alone, Asahi immersed himself in deep contemplation, trusting his feet to keep him on the familiar hilly streets while the gears of his mind kept turning, thoughts whirring in his head as he contemplated a possible present for Nishinoya. The amber maple and golden ginkgo leaves fluttered down, before whirling away with a whisper of the wind. When one of those leaves brushed past his goatee, Asahi fondly recalled how he came to grow it—and how it all came about around this time last year.

###

When Asahi's cousin had come over one Saturday afternoon during his sophomore year, along with her husband and four-year-old daughter, Asahi had accidentally torn the little girl's toy. She cried until her lungs gave out and _still_ wouldn't stop until Asahi had promised to get her the exact same toy. Her father told him that he had acquired the plushie from a claw grabber at a nearby arcade, which was the only reason why goody-two-shoes Asahi had ended up in the game parlor.

Asahi had seriously considered dragging Suga there; after all, the setter's knack for precision could surely help him save a few coins. Nevertheless, Asahi finally managed to grab the pink bunny plushie after his fifth try. With a relieved smile on his face, he hopped toward the exit, thoughts aglow with the joy his cousin's daughter would have for her new plushie. His rotten luck decided otherwise, though, and he bumped into one of the muscly guys playing the strength tester game.

"Watch where you're going!" The boy who Asahi ran into was actually shorter and of a smaller build than him. He was actually the one at fault, as he had stepped back to gain some momentum before he struck the puck with a mallet. In doing so, he had collided with Asahi, who was too focused on the plushie to pay attention to his surroundings. As soon as he saw how large Asahi was, his Adam's apple bobbed up and down and a light sheen of sweat emerged on his forehead.

"I'm sorry," Asahi politely offered. He was sure the boy was at least two years his junior, but it wasn't in his nature to stir up trouble.

The boy answered, "Hey, no problem, man." However, his companions' stares were less friendly; if anything, it looked as though they were sizing him up. It wasn't long before one of them called, "Wait, you're quite big, dude. Have a whack at it! I wanna see how strong you are."

Now it was Asahi's turn to gulp. The group was consisted of eight boys, each of which was equal to Asahi in girth, and two of them were even slightly taller than him. The only small member was the one who nearly stepped on Asahi's shoe, but the difference was hardly a noticeable one. They had probably dropped by on their way home from some sort of martial arts practice, judging from their sport bags and their fixation with strength tests. With just one wrong step, he could end up being dead meat.

"Uh, thanks for the offer, but I can't. I've just spent my last coin."

"Hey, no problem, man. I've got plenty of 'em left." This time, the speaker was the tallest guy in the group. He opened his fist to show Asahi a literal handful of coins, which all seemed to wink tauntingly up at him.

"Oh, that's … wow…" Asahi's eyes darted around frenetically, vainly trying to find an escape route, but none existed. Before he knew it, he was surrounded by a gang of beefy guys who looked as though they could crush apples bare-handed without breaking a sweat.

"All right," Asahi acquiesced, plastering the pale approximation of a smile onto his face. "I'll try once, and then I must really get home. My parents are expecting me."

Cold sweat rolled down Asahi's forehead as he fumbled the rubber mallet and hoped he could somehow withhold as much power as possible. He would need to pretend to pound the puck with all his might, of course—it wouldn't do for his challengers to think he had cheated them. On the other hand, if he scored higher than his challenger and his teammates went berserk, things would certainly get ugly. The last guy who had challenged the high striker scored 758.

 _Please stay below 500,_ he prayed as he gripped the fiberglass handle of the mallet and tensed his muscles until they screamed. The strands of marquee lights over the machine mocked him with their lurid blare, as though they were saying, _You can never do anything right—let alone control your strength!_

The moment the face of the red mallet smashed against the equally red puck, Asahi had been overcome with a dreadful feeling of doom. He had no courage to peek at the score, but the congratulations that followed the genial slaps on his back meant that he didn't need to. "Not bad at all, dude! 832!"

Asahi's gaze dragged itself to the score tower without his permission. There, flanked by the jeeringly gleeful marquee lights, were the three red digits that sealed his fate.

Another of the muscular boys remarked, "Your score's the closest to our vice-captain. His was 879. And our captain scored 916 earlier."

Smiling as convincingly as he could through his imperceptible full-body tremors, Asahi forced out, "Wow, those are impressive scores! All right, I gotta go home. Thanks for the treat. See you guys."

"Hang on!" A hand grabbed the hem of Asahi's shirt in an unbreakable grip.

 _Uh-oh._

"Guys, I'm really―"

"We won't keep you too long," one muscular boy wheedled, light reflecting harshly off his glinting smile.

"Yeah!" the second boy agreed. "Just join us! Our rugby team could use a pair of strong hands like yours. You're also a Karasuno student, right? It's the only high school around this area."

Asahi blinked, mind whirring to a screeching halt. "I-I'm honored, but―"

"See? He agrees!" Another boy—the beefiest, stoutest, and thickest-looking of them all—slapped Asahi's back, sending him staggering a few steps from the force of his blow. "Well done! And welcome to our club!"

"No, I―"

Asahi's small voice was immediately drowned by several cheers and other loud expressions of welcome as the rest of the rugby team also slapped him on the back. The only consolation was that the hand which had previously dug into his shirt had let go during the kerfuffle. In the midst of all their merriment, one of the ruby players babbled, "With you around, Karasuno will make it to the Hanazono this year!"

"Uh, why would you need me to get you there? Wouldn't a bus or a train do?" Asahi replied distractedly, his eyes frantically scanning his surroundings for an escape route.

"Hahahahaha! Hanazono's our equivalent of the Koshien. You must have never played our sport before if you don't know that."

"W-Well, that's because I already belong to the volleyball club."

The guy who stood on Asahi's left cried out, "Ditch it! Switch to rugby—the _real_ sports for men."

"I'm sorry, but I really must go home." The rugby player on the far right had just shifted, leaving a gap between their bulky bodies. If Asahi could just squeeze through it…

The second tallest guy in the group grasped Asahi's shoulder, locking him in place once more. "Not so fast, buddy. Our rugby team may not have won a championship yet, but we've got very promising players this year. If we've got you there, we're definitely gonna make it!"

"I'm sure you'll do well without me—"

The shortest member who bumped into Asahi earlier loudly interjected, "And our club room is equipped with a gym!"

"But that's—"

"HEY!"

Asahi and the rugby team turned towards the source of the exclamation with varying degrees of speed. About three meters away, amid the colorfully blinking marquee lights in that game arcade, stood a boy with wild gravity-defying hair and wilder eyes. It didn't take long for Asahi to recognize him as the libero of his volleyball team.

"Nishinoya?"

"You can't just steal my team member!" Seemingly unaware of the menace emanating from Asahi's captors, Nishinoya growled ferally at the rugby team.

" _My_ team member? You're a member of the flightless volleyball team?" One of the members off to Asahi's right sneered.

The boy standing next to him blurted out in a genuinely incredulous tone, "No way! He's way too small. He can't be more than, what … ten, eleven years old?"

Veins of anger pulsed dangerously on Nishinoya's head as he snarled, "What. Did. You. Say?"

"Ooh, the tiny weensy bitsy baby is angry. How scary~" A lean but tall rugby player sneered, affecting a mockingly babyish tone of voice to provoke Nishinoya further.

Unsurprisingly, Nishinoya sprang forward, fists and hackles raised. The lanky rugby player shifted his legs further apart and leaned forward, as though preparing himself to push his opponent during a scrum. However, before either party clashed, Asahi had hauled Nishinoya back, hooking his arms underneath the shorter boy's armpits despite his instantaneous and violent protests.

"Let me go, Asahi-san! I'm not afraid of them!"

Asahi tightened his grip. "Nishinoya, if we fight them, neither the volleyball nor the rugby team will be allowed to compete this year."

Nishinoya breathed hard as his violent flailing subsided, his chest rising and falling rapidly in pronounced fury. For his part, his opponent eyed him malefically, lips no longer curved upwards.

"What's going on here?" The voice of a middle-aged man shattered their temporary and fragile silence.

They all peered at the newcomer: a balding man with a thinning mustache and a manager tag pinned onto his shirt. Asahi suspected the manager had been observing them, since it was impossible for someone in the near vicinity to not have heard Nishinoya shout, but decided not to interfere unless the situation escalated into physical violence.

Even so, the manager's voice stayed mild as he asked, "Are you fighting, boys?"

"No, sir. We were getting overexcited earlier, but we've calmed down now." The rugby player who had kept silent spoke for the first time, and Asahi couldn't help noting that his voice was surprisingly soft compared to his intimidating appearance. "We're sorry if we have disturbed you or any other customers. We will leave now."

Since the other rugby team members immediately and unwaveringly moved to follow him, Asahi assumed that the speaker was their captain.

"At least one of you knows manners," the manager remarked, "but how do I know that you won't go fighting eight to two once you're out of my sight? The matter hasn't been resolved yet, as far as I can see."

The rugby team stopped dead in their track at the manager's words. Two of the boys seemed like they were about to protest but, when the captain raised his hand, they subsided without a murmur. Only then did the captain address the manager. "Then what do you propose, sir?"

"Rugby team, you were trying to recruit this boy, correct?" He cocked his head at Asahi.

"Yes, sir."

"Hmm." The manager scratched his chin. "When you grow up and have your own jobs, there are times when headhunters will try to recruit skillful employees from other companies. There are different kinds of offers, naturally, but they all require one fundamental basis: an incentive which would convince the target to part with what they already have. This could be better facilities, a higher position in the company, and many things besides. Since this boy isn't interested in your gym, what other things will you tempt him with?"

Some of the rugby players hesitated and exchanged uneasy looks. One was conspicuously holding his head with both hands, whilst another was … mumbling mathematical formulas, for some odd reason. The captain alone remained unfazed but, before he could say anything, Nishinoya beat him to the punch.

"Asahi-san isn't only a regular player; he's the ace of our team," Nishinoya declared. "Don't tell me you plan to replace _your_ ace—or maybe captain—with a player who has never played rugby before?"

The look in one of the rugby player's eyes indicated that he desperately wanted to throw a punch at the impertinent shorty, but he contained himself with clenched fists at the shake of the captain's head—much to Asahi's relief. Nishinoya, on the other hand, stood firm through it all.

In the end, although the rugby team didn't prevent Asahi and Nishinoya from leaving, the lanky guy who had nearly gotten into a brawl with Nishinoya muttered, "Tch! Who needs a chicken like him anyway? Needing to be rescued by an underclassman … what a joke!"

Nishinoya turned back, but only stuck his tongue out in response. The lanky rugby player was about to spout expletives at his cheek but his captain ordered, "Drop it!"

Asahi didn't turn back to check if there were others muttering amongst the rugby team, because he knew how true any of their words would be. Nishinoya was over twenty centimeters shorter than him and did not possess even half of Asahi's physical strength, yet he didn't even bat a lash while facing eight brawny rugby players.

Despite his small stature, the first-year libero was incredibly charismatic. He had always encouraged the team and restored their confidence by simply fulfilling his role as the team's guardian during numerous matches. Asahi, on the contrary, had never done anything significant for the team, even though he was the tallest player there and was, reputedly, their ace. The thought was enough to bring a miserable flush to his cheeks, one that not even Nishinoya's proximity could dispel.

Together, Asahi and Nishinoya ambled home, ignoring the falling leaves in favor of their own thoughts. After a while, they arrived at a fork in the road, where Asahi would turn left while Nishinoya turned right.

"Well, I guess this is it. See you tomorrow, Asahi-san."

Asahi didn't want Nishinoya to leave yet, but what reason did he have to detain his underclassman? All he could offer was an inadequate and shaky, "Y-Yeah."

Asahi couldn't bear to move a millimeter, let alone bring himself to walk away, from that junction. He watched Nishinoya's back go farther and farther into the distance until, at last, something clicked inside his head.

"Nishinoya, wait!" He ran to chase the younger boy.

When Nishinoya turned to face him, Asahi skidded to a stop and panted for breath, before huffing out, "I … I haven't thanked you yet."

"Oh. I haven't thanked you too, I guess." Nishinoya removed his hands from his pockets with a nonchalant shrug. "Without you, I'd go home covered in bruises—maybe I'd even have some broken bones. But what's worse would be that our team wouldn't be able to participate in the Inter-High."

"And without you, I probably wouldn't be able to play volleyball again."

The two boys laughed together, letting the tension bleed from their muscles—or it might have just been Asahi's, but he wasn't able to tell.

"So, mutual thanks?" Nishinoya offered his hand.

Asahi discreetly wiped his hand on his trousers before shaking it and confirming, "Mutual thanks."

Asahi's nerves tingled as warmth spread through his body. More than words, more than gestures, he felt … trust. Any decision Nishinoya chose would be the one Asahi threw his lot in with.

"How come you were at that arcade at that precise time, anyway?"

"That's the place I usually frequent, so I was already there before you came. I wanted to say hello, except you looked like you were concentrating really hard at the claw machine. Plus, I needed to take a dump. So, anyway, after I got out from the toilet, you were already surrounded by the rugby team." When silence descended upon them again, Nishinoya kicked at a stray for a while before blurting out, "Asahi-san, I have an idea. Wanna hear it?"

Asahi found himself blinking dumbly before he eventually nodded.

"Since you don't like violence, why don't you scare people off so that they don't pick a fight with you?"

Asahi stared at him uncomprehendingly.

With another negligent shrug, Nishinoya suggested, "Grow a goatee, for instance. Lots of folk are intimidated by bearded men."

"Oh." Asahi gently pounded his fist on his palm as his face lightened up. "That's a brilliant idea! I'll definitely do it."

This time, when the silence began to feel a little too oppressive, Asahi surprised himself by asking, "Say, do you like _taiyaki_?"

"Yup. Why?"

"My cousin bought lots of them. Wanna come over to my house and help my family finish them off?"

With a brilliant smile that caused Asahi to respond in kind, Nishinoya agreed with an enthusiastic, "You bet!"

###

Asahi smiled fondly at the memory, but it only widened when an idea struck him. That evening, he made frequent journeys to the garbage dump, checking for suitable materials in half-hour intervals. It was serendipitous that Wednesday was the collection day, as it meant that some of the residents opted to put their litter out on Tuesday evenings.

The moment Asahi's gaze landed on the broken chair on his sixth visit, he knew what Nishinoya's birthday present would be. Despite what the libero said, Asahi didn't feel okay with skimping out on a present to anyone celebrating their birthday. The fact that Nishinoya was the birthday boy on this particular occasion only heightened his sense of urgency, and the weekend was spent working feverishly to complete it.

Asahi borrowed his dad's toolbox and cut the wood into smaller pieces. He was delighted to find black and white wood paints and brushes in the garage. This meant he could just scrape the money he needed to buy the smallest can of orange paint. He set to work that weekend, and for the finishing touch, he tried a gift wrapping tutorial from YouTube.

###

On October 10, Asahi's resolution had crumbled several times over before his finger finally found itself hovering before the Nishinoya residence's doorbell. The only thing that kept him rooted in place was that he had already promised, but even that was beginning to fade with every passing second.

"Are you going to stand there the whole day, sempai?" a vexed tone rebuked him from behind. Asahi didn't need to strain too hard to hear the sharply implicit, _You're blocking the way_.

Asahi did his best to hide his flinch as he clumsily spun around, only to find Tsukishima and Yamaguchi waiting with their bags, which had their change of clothes. With a mumbled apology, Asahi scooted aside and let them pass—it wasn't particularly senior-like for him to do so, but the rest of the team had gotten used to Asahi's frail heart. Yamaguchi rang the bell in his place and soon afterwards, the door swung open to reveal Nishinoya in a cheery cowboy outfit.

From what Asahi could see over his underclassman's hat, the moderately-sized house had a retro look suffused in colors that reminded him of a persimmon tree. Asahi was about to mouth "Pardon our intrusion," as was proper when one entered anyone else's household, but Nishinoya beamed and eclipsed his greeting with a bright, "Hey, guys! How do I look?"

"Like an overexcited child on his birthday," Tsukishima answered in a bored tone, while Yamaguchi hummed in agreement.

After Asahi had toed off his shoes and stepped inside, he looked around and, to his amazement, found that the living room was undecorated. There didn't even seem to be any cake or other party food lying around, either.

Worry was evident in Asahi's voice as he asked, "Nishinoya, do you need help preparing things for the party?"

With a languid wave of his hand, Nishinoya said, "Nah. Everything's ready in the backyard."

Nearly all the other volleyball members had already gathered in the living room, clad in their costumes of choice. Daichi's solemn expression and burly musculature, combined with the yellow coverall draping his body, only served to convince every onlooker that he was a genuine firefighter. Under the wide brim of his pointy wizard hat, Suga smiled benignly (or was it cunningly? It was nearly impossible to tell with that angelic face of his) as he sporadically twirled his wand. Tanaka's headband looked a little too modern when combined with his fifteenth-century samurai costume but, overall, his outfit was fine. Further at the back, Asahi spied Kageyama and Hinata bickering as usual, but their respective Frankenstein and lion costumes made the scene incredibly bizarre.

Ennoshita, dressed as a butler, popped out from an inner room as he adjusted his bow tie and declared, "The bathroom's free."

"All right then, we'll get changed." Tsukishima brushed past Ennoshita with Yamaguchi on his heels, leaving Asahi to stand beside Nishinoya.

"Um, you look good in that costume," Asahi awkwardly complimented Nishinoya, when the birthday boy showed no signs of mingling with the rest of the team.

"I know, right? See, it was a hard choice between brown leather pants and this one pair with a cowhide motif 'cos I look good in everything I wear…" Nishinoya blabbered on, but Asahi's mind had already sunken too deep into panic mode to digest his conversation partner's rambling monologue.

Nishinoya was dressed as a cowboy, while the costume lying folded inside Asahi's backpack was none other than a horse outfit. Wouldn't that imply—

 _No!_ Asahi thought, slamming the brakes on that train of thought.

Of course, this was the best moment for a hand to touch his forehead. "Hey, Asahi-san, your face's red. You didn't come here with a fever, did you?"

"Wha—no! O-of course not. I just…" He swallowed, eyes darting away from Nishinoya's concerned expression. "Say, what are Hinata and Kageyama arguing about this time?"

"Oh, they arrived at my front yard at the same time and tried to see who could enter the door first, like they always do before practice, so that set them off pretty quickly. Then Shōyō commented that Tobio would be better off pretending to be a king and Tobio said that the lion costume didn't suit a midget like Shōyō, so they started calling each other names. Now … it seems they're trying to see whose costume's better, according to the rest of the team."

"Honestly, when will they ever grow up?" Ennoshita grumbled from where he'd sidled up beside them, shaking his head in fond exasperation.

Unfortunately, Asahi ran out of excuses not to change into his costume the moment Tsukishima and Yamaguchi popped out of the bathroom in matching stegosaurus and brontosaurus costumes. It was only the sheer miraculous timing of Nishinoya's mother that spared him from his teammates' inquisitive gazes as he fiddled with his backpack.

"Yū," she called from the back of the house, "Bring your friends here and blow out the candles before they melt all over the cake!"

"You heard her, guys. Let's go!"

The volleyball club members followed Nishinoya to the backyard, which was spacious and overgrown with wild plants. However, Asahi remained standing behind the sliding glass door, heaving a sigh of relief at the knowledge that his discomfiture was delayed for a few more minutes. He considered lying and pretending that he'd forgotten his costume, but a voice that sounded rather suspiciously like Nishinoya's resounded inside his head, _'You'll be a coward forever if you don't face your fear, Asahi-san!'_

After slapping his cheeks with both his palms, Asahi picked up his bag and marched toward the bathroom. Even so, the renewed determination in his steps didn't stop him from getting stuck in the middle of changing—nervousness wasn't something that could immediately dissipate, after all.

When Asahi finally crept out in his costume, the most merciful treatment he received from Tsukishima was that the latter kept his verbal comments to himself. Even though his trademark sneer resurfaced on the first year's face, it was commonplace enough for Asahi to live with it. Needless to say, as long as his best friend didn't make a comment, neither would Yamaguchi, but nothing explained why Tanaka only let a few giggles slip as he clutched his stomach, tears threatening to leak out of his eyes. Hinata was about to say something, but Sugawara quickly distracted him by asking what he had eaten for breakfast.

It was Nishinoya himself who finally addressed the elephant in the room. Dashing toward him with a dazzling smile, the obliviously cheerful sophomore remarked, "Asahi-san, look how well we match!"

' _He meant the costumes, Azumane!'_ Asahi mentally rebuked himself, unable to help the way his face lit up or the quaver in his voice as he let out a weak, "Uh…"

Much like her son, though, Nishinoya's mother positively beamed at him. "How thoughtful of you, Asahi-kun!" She turned to her son. "Yū, we mustn't let your friend's kindness go to waste. Go grab one of those laundry lines and tie it into a lasso so you can look like a _real_ cowboy when you pose with him."

"Great idea, mom!"

Even Kageyama and Ennoshita succumbed to giggles this time. Although Daichi tried his best not to laugh, his resultant expression reminded Asahi of a man suffering from stubborn constipation, which only set everyone else off more. On the bright side, at least Asahi knew where Nishinoya inherited his sprightly character from.

Five minutes later, Asahi found himself crouching on all fours as the whole team finally allowed themselves to roar with laughter. Thankfully, Nishinoya's mother made her son stand next to the "horse" rather than ride on its back.

After the hellish photo session was over, they all sang _Happy Birthday_ , before Nishinoya blew out the candles on his cake. A strange urge rose within Asahi when Nishinoya smeared cream onto his chin—specifically, an urge to lick the birthday boy's chin clean. No matter how hard Asahi attempted to convince himself that the mini hot dogs, bruschetta, fruits kebabs in chocolate sauce, and other finger food dishes tasted better, his eyes continued straying to Nishinoya's face. _What's the matter with me?_

That guilt evolved into anxiety as Asahi watched Nishinoya open his presents, especially when none of Nishinoya's other gifts looked handmade. He had seen how the birthday boy whistled or cooed at each present, although he didn't miss how Nishinoya winced briefly when he unwrapped a nonfiction book and thanked the gifter with a strained smile. So far, Nishinoya seemed to like Tanaka's present—a T-shirt imprinted with colorful graffiti—the most.

However, Asahi's heart pounded even faster when Nishinoya's fingers reached for a small package wrapped in newspaper and adorned with a brown craft paper tag on a hemp string. When Nishinoya's pleasured surprise came through in his tone as he commented, "Now, _this_ is a fancy wrapping technique," Asahi mentally thanked the maker of the video tutorial he'd painstakingly followed. Knowing that Nishinoya was patient enough to unwrap the gift without damaging too much of the wrapper only made his heart swell more in his chest.

Once his gift was eventually revealed, Asahi's heart lodged at the base of his throat and froze for one impossible moment in time. Then Nishinoya beamed as his admiring gaze roved over the rectangular stationery holder, painted orange and black and embellished with a white number four that mirrored his volleyball uniform. When his eyes alighted on the phrase " _Karasuno's Guardian Deity_ " in Asahi's nondescript handwriting at the back, Nishinoya's mouth widened into a grin.

"Wow, this is … thank you, Asahi-san."

Asahi didn't know what had gotten into him when his gaze found Nishinoya's smiling face, but…

 _Oh, that's it._

Only then did Asahi begin to understand that his burgeoning happiness didn't derive from simplistic words, but from Nishinoya Yuu himself.

THE END


End file.
